


You're Going Soft, Caramel Heart!

by CookieCatSU



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Aunt "Glittering" Goldie O’Gilt, Breaking and Entering, F/M, Fluff and Humor, It's Goldie, Old Married Couple, She denies it but she is, This is Goldie being a parent, and not realizing she's a parent, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28491312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCatSU/pseuds/CookieCatSU
Summary: Goldie O'Gilt didn't wrestle the name "Glittering" out of the cold dead hands of fate for nothing. There isn't anything that could stop her from shining. She pauses for no one. Cares for no one.And then she kind of becomes an aunt? And starts to care? Maybe.Definitely.
Relationships: Louie Duck & "Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt, Scrooge McDuck/"Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 77





	You're Going Soft, Caramel Heart!

Goldie isn't here because she misses Scrooge. She's simply here, and also happens to miss Scrooge. There's no correlation.

Goldie O'Gilt stopped for nobody. She cares for no one.

"Hey, Scroogie!"

"Goldie? Isn't this a breach of privacy?"

Goldie laughs, hand fluttering at her side, "Not when you basically invited me in"

Scrooge's mouth opens in confusion, closes, and opens again. He gazes at the window, notices the crack in the seal, and frowns faintly.

"Note to self- always lock the study windows"

"Yeah, that's a rookie mistake, Scroogie. I expect better of you, mister" She grins wide, "What if I was here to pilfer something from you?"

"You mean steal, Goldie? And there's nothing here for you to steal, anyhow. I keep everything of value in The Bin"

"That's a matter of opinion" Goldie whispers, as she leans forward, lightly bumping their foreheads together. "I can see a number of priceless things, right now, just ripe for the taking"

"Really?" Scrooge swallows thickly, "Like what?"

"You, maybe. Never considered all of those chases may have had something to do with more than just treasure, did you?"

"No, not once" His hand wraps around the hand reaching for the wallet in his pocket. Goldie bites her beak, scowls, and gently pulls away. Scrooge is still grasping her wrist, but she finds she doesn't mind. Not too much, anyhow. 

She _is_ miffed at getting caught.

"You almost had me, O'Gilt" His smile is soft, and so loving, it almost makes her swoon. Almost. "Very smooth"

"Spoilsport"

"Why are you really here? In the middle of the night? In my study? Surely you didn't come just to _pilfer_ my things, as you put it"

"Maybe I just came to see you?" She trails her finger down the side of his beak, and is elated by the tremulous shiver she receives from Scrooge. She still has him wrapped around her finger, clearly. "Is that really so crazy?"

"Yes? No?" He leans away, huffing, "Probably? Transparent has never described you well, Goldie"

Hurtful. Goldie was like glass. Well, diamond, more like.

"You want truth?"

He raises his eyebrow, but nods, "Always"

"I was lonely. I didn't want to be by myself, so I thought, why not drop by and see what dear old man Scrooge is up to"

She reaches for his wallet again. He slaps her hand away and scowls. Goldie laughs, loud and airy, and slots herself beside him on the armchair as if she's done it a thousand times before.

Sure feels like it.

* * *

Following (beating) Scrooge to the Bottomless Caverns of Fenway may have been a mistake. That becomes particularly clear when she, and the little green triplet, Louie, sharpest of the bunch, end up trapped in a cave-in. She's stuck sitting in a muddy puddle at the bottom of the tiny alcove, searching for anything to get them out, listening to the incessant plop of water from the ceiling.

It all went so wrong, so fast.

Louie's questioning hardly helps.

She blinks. A frustrated little half smirk crosses her face. "I have to put a lot of work into these little escapades"

Louie blinks up at her, once, twice, thrice. He's surprisingly relaxed.

"You talking about how you always just manage to _show up_ wherever Uncle Scrooge is? Also magically before we get there, might I add"

"Exactly. You know how much planning that takes?" Goldie huffs, throwing a rope out of her bag. The cavern walls around them shake with the rumbling noise of the rainstorm outside, but she hardly bats an eyelash, a wry smile stretching across her beak instead. "He doesn't exactly make it easy"

Louie nods. A couple rocky bits of pebble fall on his forehead, and he glances up at the craggy ceiling.

"I saw the tracking device you stuck on his cane"

"You've got a sharp eye kid. That's why I like working with you" Pride radiates off of her, even while she starts to mutter about missing supplies. Louie takes notice, but doesn't mention it (just like that photo of him he'd seen in her wallet- which he knows nothing about if asked, point blank).

"Anyway, I'd appreciate if ya didn't tell Scroogie"

"Just like I shouldn't tell him about this disaster of an adventure"

"Exactly" O'Gilt grins sharply, "You learn fast, kid"

Louie just shrugs. "As far as I'm concerned, this didn't even happen"

* * *

When Scrooge said stay, Goldie obliged him, mostly because she had nowhere else to go, and nothing better to do, at that very moment. But Goldie is like the westward wind, like the tide, ultimately, so she can never remain in one place for very long.

Waking up in the bed beside Scrooge; even on top of the comforter and with her shoes still on, gazing at his eyes gently latched shut and desperately, desperately wanting to run her hands through the downy feathers atop his forehead as he peacefully snores away, feels much too domestic. Next thing she knows, he'll be asking her to stay the morning, stay the night, cook pancakes for when he wakes, and wait for him, and she just can't do that.

Because if he snags her she may never leave, and she needs to leave. She always must leave. It's one of the only givens, in this tango Goldie dares to call what… love? (Just never out loud).

So, she crawls out of bed as soon as the sun looks like it's about to rise, because she knows Scrooge intimately. He awakens exactly at dawn, sharp, just as the darkness starts to leak with color. 

He shifts, and his breath hitches halfway through a snore, and for a frightening few seconds it looks as if he might wake up. Goldie freezes, with one hand on the bedroom door and one foot still in the room. Then he relaxes, and drifts back to sleep.

Goldie sighs in relief and books it.

It's self preservation, what she's doing. Most things she does are- and like most actions she takes, there's a flash of regret, immediately after.

She ignores it. A gal has to do what she has to do, after all.

Goldie's almost out scot-free when she hears the first scream.

She pauses halfway through the window, foot slipping off the sill, dislodging some dust with it. A soft huff, and a quick, charming wave. "Hey kiddos. Wasn't expecting to see you so early. Shouldn't you still be asleep? Rest is important for the development of those young minds of yours, yeah?"

Huey scowls at her. "What are _you_ doing _here?"_

"She's here to steal our cereal! Protect the stores!" Dewey screams, and his face is even more twisted in suspicion than his brother.

"You think I'm sneaking in" She laughs, "No, I'm sneaking out"

"You've already been through here" Huey gasps, sounding almost scandalized. "What did you take, Goldie?"

"Yeah, where's our cereal, O'Gilt!"

Goldie turns to the red one. Of the two, he seemed the most likely to try to stop her.

"I didn't take anything. Except maybe your uncle's heart, but I won that fair and square. Oh, and I guess I also have his wallet, but I _was_ going to give it back, so it isn't stealing or anything"

"Give that back" The red triplet demands loudly, lunging forward, one hand at his hat, the other reaching blindly toward Goldie.

Goldie laughs loudly at that. She also nearly slips from the windowsill, but manages to correct herself.

"Hey, hey, that's no way to treat a guest, is it? And a lady, no less"

Huey springs for her, grappling for the wallet.

That's when things start to get out of hand, and Goldie starts to feel the situation slipping like smoke through her fingertips.

"Hey! That's mine! Kind of"

Beakley walks up to them, and promptly plucks Goldie out of the window by the back of her shirt. The mini slap fight ends mid-completion, both participants huffing and puffing.

"Hey. Careful with those death grippers. This shirt is uh, vintage"

"Children, dining room, now please" She inclines her head in the ducklings' direction. Goldie had never seen two kids follow directions so well before. They both nod, turn toward the interior of the mansion and take off.

Beakely looks back down at Goldie, dangling and pouting in her grip, and sighs. _"_ _C_ _hild,_ with me"

There are three very angry faces looking back at her from the other side of the dining room table- four if you include the ghost butler, though she wouldn't since he looks more intrigued than anything.

"Why are you wandering around our house?" Huey asks.

"How did you get in?" Beakley questions, about 3 seconds later.

Goldie just rolls her eyes, brushing their urgent tones aside. They really were making a big deal out of nothing.

"Scrooge left his study window open. But before you all get your panties in a bunch, he invited me in. Swear"

"Really?" Huey snaps, and he looks moments from jumping on the table… but Beakley has gone silent, resigned, and Duckworth starts giggling in the back. The interrogation grinds to a halt.

Dewey's eyes widen, once he sees Beakley get up, and a big 'oh' leaves his beak as recognition hits him.

"You will be joining us for breakfast" Beakley says, firm and absolutely a command. Goldie opens her mouth in protest- she has places to be after all, things to do, _schemes_ to put in place. But, "This is not up for discussion"

Ms. Beakley's hard gaze stops the excuse before it can even leave Goldie's beak.

The duck sinks boneless in her chair and sighs.

* * *

She's scared. So scared.

Goldie is called "Glittering" for a reason. She's a perfect distraction because she's bright and shiny, and while people are staring at golden locks and shimmering hips- the outer shell of the cicada- wandering hands can generally do, and pilfer, as they please.

Louie is dangling prone from the canopy, and the robot boy is marching dutifully forward, bat in his hands, lazers fired up hot, and Goldie quickly realizes the duckling needs a distraction.

She puts herself between Louie and the robot, in what in hindsight would probably seem like a lapse in judgement, and then it's like the Klondike all over again: distract or die.

She does what she must.

* * *

It's terrifying. It's terrifying, the pancake batter splattered over her cheeks, the smell of bacon and domesticity thick in the air. One of the ducklings hands her a bowl to pour into the skillet (more pancake batter, evidently) and it's sickening because it's actually not nearly as _sickening_ as it should be.

When Beakley said, "You're helping make breakfast" in that way that's a proclamation of the future, basically, O'Gilt had rolled her eyes. Nothing else, just a scoff, a shrug, a soft complaint muttered under her breath. Now, she's freaking out, just the smallest bit, because it _actually_ is kind of fun.

"What's the point if you're wearin' all the food?"

Quiet laughs ushered from tiny lungs. Dewey wipes some batter off his beak. Goldie swallows thick and tries to pretend like she didn't just feel something.

It's torture.

Once breakfast is cooked, and the triplets have been seated with plates in front of them, Goldie seeks out Ms. Beakley. She's agitated, glancing back at the table every so often, catching glimpses of green, blue, red. And there's that feeling again. Ugh.

"This is a punishment for my sins, isn't it?" She points at the kitchen, at the dining table, at those pesky little ones munching away. A scowl grows on her face. "I know you Beakley"

Beakley actually laughs.

"No. Why would you think that?"

Goldie blinks at her, confused.

"I don't do domestic, okay"

It's Beakley's turn to look the slightest bit confused, before confusion morphs into smugness.

"Right"

* * *

His expression is so fond, it's almost foreign. Goldie is used to seeing that subtle glitter of love in his eyes when he gazes at her. But it's usually so quickly overshadowed by indignation. Buried, ever present, but faint enough she can only see it because she knows from experience.

There's something open about this. It's so much like the way he looked at her in the Forever Glades, when she asked him to start over with her- just bare and honest, no scheme, no gold digging attached. She said she cared, admitted it for all the overgrowth to hear, and she could see the way his heart just burst, by the look on his face.

He's looking at her like that again. Goldie isn't shy, but finds herself glancing away anyhow.

Louie shifts behind her. He's still gripping onto the edge of her shirt sleeve, knuckles ashen with the pressure, forehead pressed against her side. He's obviously still shaken up, teeth clattering. Goldie brushes her other hand over his head, gently uttering reassures, trying to comfort him.

"You're goin' soft, Goldie" Scrooge says, amazed, and he's still staring at her, warm enough to melt glaciers. 

Staring, at her and Louie, huddled together, just taking it all in.

Goldie glares at him.

"Shut up, old man" She snaps, because she has no real defense.

She is going soft.

* * *

"I got some licorice. Salted Caramel candies too"

Louie smirks, and it's clear he has a quip, a comment, perhaps on how old ladylike or aunt like, that is, but Goldie's glare stops him in his tracks. Instead he snatches a individually wrapped piece of red licorice from her hand, inspecting it from several different vantage points, flipping it between his fingers. 

He sends a questioning look her way, "And how is that gonna help us?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. But I will. Trust me" She's the queen of scheming; teaching the apprentice who'd one day inherit her throne.

Louie shrugs. "Nah, I uh, think I'll believe it when I see it"

* * *

"I care, okay" She glances quickly away, "I care about him, and I care about you… Happy?"

Scrooge considers that.

"Say it again?"

Goldie grins, and while she'll never admit it, it's as toothrottingly loving as Scrooge's own, the one reserved just for her. Okay, maybe not quite _that_ loving. Goldie O'Gilt still has a backbone, after all. 

"Don't push your luck, you salty old codger. Me going all soft doesn't mean I won't still kick you in the shin"

Scrooge's answering smirk says it all. Most notably, O'Gilt sees the words, 'I got ya,' spelled across his beak. The faint upward curve says 'I've got ya and I'm never letting ya go'.

"Noted"

Goldie leans her head against Scrooge's shoulder, and he wraps an arm around her waist and sighs happily. And you know, Goldie doesn't mind that one bit.

Being McDuck's might not be half bad.

**Author's Note:**

> "Please, Scrooge! I wouldn't steal from children unless they had something I really wanted, or I was bored, or..."
> 
> "...Or you know, if it was like, my kid"
> 
> \- Goldie, probably


End file.
